Mr Green

This was the thing dreams are made of .It seemed to him to be a
match made in heaven. She was perfect perfection, supreme supremity,
just pretty darn great. With the keys in his breast pocket he ran a
hand a long the devestatingly attractive curves and smiled,
content.
'There's been several people after that particular one,Mr Green. You're
a lucky man.' Although that was without doubt straight from the
salesman-handbook, Mr. Green could,and did, believe he was the luckiest
man alive. He beamed as it crossed his mind that there was only one
thing left to do. Drive home.

Mr Green did not have to drive though, more float. It is supposed to
take time to adjust to a new car, but Mr.Green instantly felt at ease.
Never had a car felt so right, so part of him. It appeared flawless.
The body of the car was beautiful, and only failed in comparison to the
engine.It was the engine that would make this unbelieveable purr, a
noise that he'd never heard before. It was like a lullaby, divine. It
was the thought of this sound that strangely made it possible for
Mr.Green to leap out of bed in the morning. The prospect of hearing
that purr would give any man the impetus to slog through a dreary
9-to-5 Monday, safe in the knowledge that the end of the day would mean
a chance to listen. Any man would be insane not to want to spend time
with something so inspired. And as Mr.Green was beginning to find,
there were more sane men about than he imagined.

It started with a colleague from work who needed a lift home. Mr.Green
was only to happy to oblige as he almost lived next door to the man. He
turned the key and smiled. Beautiful. But it quickly became apparent
that he was not the only one to notice that purr. His colleague raved
all the way home about the smoothness with which the car and Mr.Green
seemed to navigate even the rockier roads. Mr.Green could only agree
with him. He was of course helped immensely by the way the car would
'talk' to him through the steering, guiding together the best route to
take.

The next day, Mr.Green could not move for the people commenting on his
car. Self-proclaimed experts would jokingly suggest ways of
fine-tuning, but Mr.Green couldn't see how it could be composed any
better and he was pretty sure no-one else could either. It became clear
to his work-mates that Mr.Green was extremely fond of his car, and they
would play on this by joking about how they'd nicked his keys and taken
her for a quick spin round the block. Mr. Green noticed how this
teasing was only ever aimed at him, despite the fact that other people
had cars which, while not in the same league as his as far as he was
concerned, seemed adequate enough for kidding about to take place.
Mr.Green put this teasing down to the fact that his car was certainly
something special. And he was generally quite a laid back person so was
a safe bet not too take the teasing to seriously. So it
continued.

Eventually came the weekend, and with it an opportunity to really spend
some time with the car. But caught up in his excitement, it had slipped
his mind that an friend from back in school was coming to stay. With
minutes to spare, he arrived at the airport. Looking round he saw his
old comrade. His face was smiling as ever, radiating a friendliness and
charm that everyone, as Mr.Green remembered, could not help but warm
to.
Being an intelligent man, his friend was quick to notice that the car
he was being given a lift in had a certain 'panache' as he put
it.

The days flew by as Mr.Green with his friend, like a couple of
grandads, exchanged stories of yester-year. An alarming amount of which
contained alcohol, their favourite drink 'Dutch 69'. Mr.Green was
delighted to hear that his friend had managed to get his hands on
several bottles of the now deleted beer. Perfectly drinkable he was
ensured, but it made him somehow suspicious of his friends new-found
tee-totalness.While the memories flowed back quicker so did the amount
of beer drunk, inducing Mr.Green to become increasingly 'relaxed'. And,
as always with these relaxed states, navigating stairs becomes
suprisingly difficult. Mr.Green was having a reasonable amount of
success though until the final few steps. He stumbled and fell with a
bone-snapping crunch.
'SHIT!FUCK!&;#8230;.OOW!'
His friend rushed out to see Mr.Green in a mess at the bottom of the
stairs. Despite Mr.Green's best efforts, he could not see how he'd
fallen, why he had; there appeared to be no obvious reason to him why
he was in a such a uncomfortable state.
'Your ankle looks broken, we need to get you to a hospital.'
'But I can't drive like this.' Mr.Green realised what that meant.
'You daft bugger, I'll drive.'

Despite his work-mates claims, no-one else had driven Mr.Green's car
since he'd found it. But that was about to change. At least it would be
a person who he trusted.
'Just take it easy ok,' Mr.Green said, 'It can be difficult with a
completely new car.' He hopped to the driver's door before realising
his mistake.

Now in the passenger seat, Mr.Green winced as his friend turned the
key. It was the same comforting purr, the same effortless ride, but
something was different. It was not Mr.Green inducing the sound from
the engine, but his friend. This made Mr.Green un-easy, although he
knew it shouldn't. Maybe it was just the fact that the car was so easy
to drive with that anybody could. It was just that the engine sounded
like it was making the same noises for his friend as it did for him. He
knew it couldn't be, but with the unstable state he was in, he felt
unsure.. Stupidly so.

It turned out that his ankle was not broken , merely badly sprained, so
this meant that when taking his friend to show him around his
workplace, Mr.Green could drive. Although he had come to terms with the
fact that other people would undoubtedly get-along with the car and
didn't mind that they did, it felt comforting to be back behind the
steering wheel. The seat seemed to have been moulded especially to
provide comfort for him, and it did.

His friend was impressed with the workplace, getting on with Mr.Green's
workmates, joining in the now daily teasing which was now becoming
slightly wearing. The time for lunch came and Mr.Green decided to drive
his friend to a nice restraunt, The Yellow Lily, for lunch. When they
got in the car, Mr.Green realised he'd left his wallet in the
office.
'Back in a minute.'

A minute was all it had taken. But in that time one of his work-mates,
who enjoyed the teasing the most, had managed to slip into the driving
seat. Revving the engine, he gave Mr.Green a knowing wink. Innocent it
may have been, but it crossed the line as far as Mr.Green was
concerned. That was enough. Unable to force another polite smile at the
workmate's antics, he turned and began walking away.

An hour or so passed and so Mr.Green headded back to the office. He was
greeted by a barrage of questions, as to where he'd been, what he'd
been doing . He explained that he'd just gone for a walk, nothing
more.
He saw his friend.
'Where have u been? You just left the car, it could have been stolen or
anything.' Mr.Green was swamped with guilt. He'd screwed up, neglected
his car that had been so good to him.
'I'm sorry.'